


We will train yours

by gwmclintock88



Series: Across the Whedonverse [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Whedonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3712090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwmclintock88/pseuds/gwmclintock88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giles had to mentally prepare himself for the meeting with SHIELD. He expected the agency to operate with a level of secrecy and efficency. He certainly didn't expect one Melinda May</p>
            </blockquote>





	We will train yours

            “Explain to me again why we are meeting with them?” Xander asked.

            Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them. They’d have this conversation for the better part of the last week, stopping and starting it whenever one of them thought they knew something he hadn’t already considered. Ever since the rise of Twilight, things started to go sideways for the rest of the planet.

            Aliens. If he hadn’t seen demons in life, fought them and killed them for the better part of his adult life, then he would have been more surprised – shocked even – that aliens existed and were interested in Earth. Such a wonder humans ever crawled out of the primordial ooze. There certainly was crossover between the demons and aliens, or whatever else there was. Hence the necessity of this meeting.

            “This meeting allows us the opportunity to discuss the importance of cooperation,” Giles said as he returned his glasses to their rightful spot. “We are woefully underprepared for any…extraterrestrial incursions, as I am sure they are just as unprepared for any demonic ones. Hopefully, this meeting will be fruitful. At the very least, I hope to open a dialogue and begin to draw lines of defense, for both of our respective groups.”

            “I don’t need to stick around for this, do I?” Xander asked. The younger man certainly looked the part of the leader, offering a solid, if normal perspective on everything they faced. Giles wondered if he would ever get used to seeing the man with an eyepatch.

            “No, once they are shown in, I believe I can handle this discussion.” Giles glanced back down to the book on the Zerfurn demon, a nasty little thing potentially related to the Chitauri that invaded into New York last year. He’d recalled the reading when he first saw the aliens and only now found the reference. Even with the infernal machines now housing most of the literature and readings of the Council, they still failed when one could not properly recall a specific inquiry.

            As he skimmed the first few pages waiting for their arrival, he heard the telegraphed footfalls of his approaching guests. Even with all the Slayers living with them, he silently thanked several deities for spies. At least they had the sense to use their abilities along a given spectrum. You understand that spectrum, you understand the general goals of the organization.  SHIELD (prior to Hydra’s outing) tended to publicly swing toward positive behaviors, though often more aggressive then Giles liked to see in his government organization. The SHIELD he was speaking with right now seemed to remain on the positive side of things while reducing the aggressiveness outside of being naturally protective of their interests.

            Slayers on the other hand were too variable in nature, even with an organization built to assist them. They often required more care, something most of these Slayers lacked (along with experience) and would be likely lead astray much easier than normal. He mentally prepared a checklist for his flight out to visit Faith to discuss such matters as he looked up to greet his guests.

            “Welcome,” Giles said, offering the three agents a smile. Both men of European descent wore a suit while the woman of Asian descent wore what could be classified as a bodysuit. He caught himself staring for a moment, marveling at not only the way she carried herself but at how well it clung to her. He may be old, but he certainly wasn’t dead.  “I apologize for not greeting you in person – it seemed one of our more…advanced students decided the appropriate amount of force for response to a prank required a visit the infirmary.”

            The woman stopped walking for a moment, and had he not been looking at her, Giles was sure he would have missed it. The older male noticed, but the younger male seemed too entranced with the library.

            “Director Coulson,” the older male said. Giles noted the page he stopped on and closed it to shake hands. “This is Agent Fitz,” Coulson motioned toward the younger male as they shook hands, “and this is Agent May.” The woman nodded, shaking his hand momentarily before stepping back.

            “Please, have a seat,” Giles said. Andrew prepared something edible, but hardly fitting of their guests. The boy could at least make a decent pot of tea, so there was at least a reason to keep him around – that and he offered a wonderful distraction for the Slayers who were in all rights still children.

            “Thank you.” Coulson sat and removed a folder from his briefcase. Fitz followed the direction easily enough and quietly poured himself a cup of tea. Giles glanced at May, glancing toward the pot Fitz just placed back on the cart but she shook her head. He did receive a smile, small that it may have been, but a smile nonetheless. “We were wondering what you made of this?”

            Giles reached over and opened the folder. Several images of what appeared to be either a crime scene or a ritual sacrifice were held within. He began to spread them out on the table, carefully looking over them before sorting them into some kind of order. “The claw marks in the wall are a little distressing, however, not so much as this.” He spun one of the images around and pointed to the tiny symbols nearly destroyed by the large cracks in the wall and partially covered with blood. “I don’t suppose you managed to copy them down for someone to investigate?”

            “Yes,” Fitz said. He placed his tea carefully back on its plate before removing a notebook from his bag. He flipped through several pages, likely searching for the image. Giles caught the slight tremble in his hands become more pronounced as he worked, though nothing too disheartening. “We – I – we recovered as much as we could, but it is unlike anything we’ve…encountered.”

            “Fascinating,” Giles leaned forward. The symbols appeared to not represent a language, or at least none he knew. There were similarities to a few demon tongues, coincidentally, to the Zerfurn, but he suspected the coincidence amounted to little more than probabilities. “I assume you’ve collected samples from the site before clearing it?”

            “Of course,” Fitz said, looking a little indignant at the thought. Giles could help his grin: Finally, the opportunity to work with individuals who understood the necessity of securing and investigating beyond asking ‘can I stake it?’ or ‘how do I kill it?’ “Simmons has already begun to analyze them, though we may need to cross-reference it with what you have.”

            “Right, well, I believe that is a good start to all of this,” Giles said.

Coulson nodded, giving him a tight smile. He seemed uncomfortable with the thought of demons, but honestly, Giles felt a certain relief at the notion. If aliens existed then there were certain explanations for why demons did as well, potentially a common ancestry. Had Willow not been so enticed by magic and witchcraft, she potentially would enjoy puzzling this out as much as he did.

            “It’s obvious that we could assist you. How can you assist us?” The others - especially Buffy - may not like the question, but Giles remained the prudent one out of the originals, and really out of the new group. In times of need, allies that could assist them were more important than allies with dead weight to hang around their necks.

            “We will train yours,” May said. Giles stared at her, not glared since she spoke his words, but definitely stared at her. It was the first she spoke since she entered, but there was no way to know for certainty she had his.

            “How do you know they need training?” Giles leaned forward and maintained eye contact with her.  May just raised an eyebrow, and had Giles been a less experienced man, he would have been terrified of that image. Instead he just was slightly anxious.

            “A demonstration, perhaps?” She stood from her seat and walked away. Coulson and Fitz hastily got up to follow, gathering their files as quickly as they could.  Giles reached for his book and set a determined pace for himself. Things never needed to be rushed, especially this soulmark business.

            He’d spent the majority of his adult life without one, yet enjoyed love more than he ever thought possible. Soulmarks were not simply the only solution for one’s life, just possibly the best (though he could count the number of marked relationships that failed due to normal stressors, and few abnormal ones as well). Finding his now may be a boon, but giving his role with the Slayers and, if Agent May had his words, her role with SHIELD, a stable relationship seemed unlikely. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

            By the time Giles caught up to them, May found their training dojo and stood just outside the ring as two of the younger girls fought one another. Coulson remained expressionless, but Fitz rightly looked apprehensive at some of the hits the girls were taking. He’d have to speak with Danielle about proper training edict once this venture was over.

            May determined who Danielle was after only a few moments in the room and walked to her side. They spoke in hushed tones, though Slayer hearing likely picked it up if some of the recruits glances over to them were any indication.

            The current fight ended without much fanfare, and really only because Danielle called it. Both of the young Slayers were out of breath (he really should learn their names) but they would recover quickly. May stepped forward into the circle, and watched as Danielle walked around the room.

            “Kennedy!”

            One of their more experienced Slayers, which still didn’t say much given that Kennedy only had been called a few years prior. Still, the young woman could more than hold her own and did remarkable well while at Sunnydale.

            “Are we sure this a good idea?” Fitz leaned over to Coulson and asked. The older man glanced at Giles before returning his vacant stare to May.

            As May and Kennedy circled each other, Coulson spoke, “May knows what she is doing.”

            And indeed it seemed she did.

            Kennedy moved on the offensive first, taking a swing with her right hand. May flowed around her and landed a smack upside the overconfident Slayer’s head. It didn’t send her sprawling, but it certainly forced her to regain her footing. May shot him a smirk before they began to dance again.

            Giles watched as May preceded to put on a clinic of self-defense and unarmed combat. Despite Kennedy’s superior speed, strength, and senses, the Slayer failed to land any hit on May. Instead, May dodged everything (though admittedly, Kennedy telegraphed her moves rather obviously), and her strikes would have knocked out a lesser person. But these were Slayers, prone to more aggression which offered them the upper hand against vampires, as well as higher endurance.

            May immediately capitalized on the aggression and endurance, using it against Kennedy, and before long, the younger woman found herself with a boot to her throat, panting and struggling to lift it off.

            “Well, there are certainly things you can teach us,” Giles said as May strutted back over to him. She certainly broke a sweat, but the serene smile really made her stunning. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, where the words were tattooed into his skin. Before he could say anything else, Kennedy recovered enough to try and tackle the agent.

            May spun and fired offer several rounds from her side arm. Each hit slammed into Kennedy, but there were no wounds or abrasions - only very large blue welts on her arms and in the center of her four head. Kennedy’s only response to the hits was to drop to the floor. Some of the girls rushed to her side, but most stood still and some even took a step back away from May as she walked away from the training circle.

            “They’re called ICERS,” Coulson said. He removed a sidearm from the holster, revealing a modified pistol. Blue molding surrounded the barrel, but other than that, it appeared rather similar to most handheld weapons. He had little use for guns, but this certainly acted like no firearm he’d ever seen. Rather, it was more a tranquilizing gun, though if it took down a Slayer it was rather powerful. “Non-lethal ammo that can take down a rhino.”

            “That’s not quite – well it probably could, we just haven’t tested that yet,” Fitz said.

            “I’d say you had a fair testing of it right now,” Giles said. He slipped the book under his arm and removed his glasses, trying to gather his thoughts. “Though, they may not serve much purpose in killing demons.”

            “Good for civilians, though they will cause a head ache,” Fitz offered. “Not that I’m saying shooting civilians is a good idea, sir.” He quickly corrected himself as Coulson and May stared/glared at him.

            “You’re spending way too much time with Skye,” Coulson muttered. She must be another member of their team, though right now he could only concentrate on May. The woman stood several feet from him but her presence loomed closer. “Agent May has a few more things to discuss with you I believe Mister Giles. I believe we could table any further discussions for the time being.”

            “Seems fair,” Giles said. He slipped his glasses back on and turned to face the director. “I will begin researching on my end for some answers.”

            “Thank you and good luck,” Coulson said, shaking his hand. “You’re going to need it.”  He motioned toward Fitz to follow him out the door, confusing the younger agent it seemed. Giles turned toward May, and offered what he hoped was a charming smile.

            “This way?” They walked out of the training room, even as the rest of the girls began to swarm around Kennedy (still knocked out) and gossip. He led her toward his office where hopefully there was a warm pot of tea waiting for him.  Certainly would need it right now. If not, there was a bottle of scotch he had in his desk.

            “Would you care for something to drink?” Giles moved around his desk and removed the bottle along with two tumblers. May nodded her approval, smiling a little bit more at him. He poured a health amount of fingers into each glass before replacing the bottle in the draw. He held one out to May. “It seems that we must show our cards then?”

            “If I must,” May said. She took a sip of the scotch and placed it on his desk. Her arm brushed his side, but she never looked away. Her dark eyes remained locked on him, revealing her still waters. She slowly unzipped her bodysuit, just enough to peel off the fabric from her left shoulder. Ignoring the impressive amount of skin he now was afforded, Giles caught the tail end of his statement to her when they first walked into the room wrapping upward from her armpit.

            “Yes, well…” He stared for another moment, this time letting his eyes drift a little to the right and little south. He took a sip on his scotch before turning around. He placed his glass next to hers but remained with his back to her. He pushed down the collar on his sweater. May reached out and rain her fingers over her words. He attempted to restrain the slight shiver that ran through him, but given her smirk, he failed in that regard.

            “We have much to discuss,” she said as she stepped up to him.

            Giles nodded. He felt the heat of her body radiating into his and really, he should have outgrown childish impulses, but it wasn’t every day you met the one with your words. “I think that is the most appropriate course of action? Dinner and a discussion, perhaps? I know a few private restaurants we could sneak off to if you won’t be missed.”

            “That is…acceptable,” May said. She leaned into him just a little bit more as if to offer him a kiss before stepping backward. She zipped her suit back up, hiding his words and that wonderful glimpse of skin. “Seven o’clock?” She spun around before he could give her an answer, leaving him with two glasses of scotch and a rather remarkable view of her from behind.

            Giles swallowed the remaining amount from his tumbler before reaching for hers. He stared at it, a faint imprint of a neutral color lipstick around the edge. Nothing heavy by any means, but certainly alluring. “I’m almost too old for this shit,” he said to himself before tossing back the remaining amount. He hoped he got through the evening without any of the others hearing about it, but undoubtedly the gossip would spread quickly and –

            “Giles!” Buffy stormed into his office with Xander on her heels. He stared at the empty glass and contemplating pouring another one. He silently told himself that he only had to last a few more hours before better conversations and companionship. They lead different lives, but he’d rather take the chance of love, however limited, than to just watch it walk away.

            Before any of that could happen, he had to deal with the mess left by May, something he released would likely be a common (and welcome) occurrence if they managed to work their relationship out. Right now, he needed to head off Buffy before she reached a full head of steam. The simplest method of doing so was to just ignore the emotional outburst and play stupid. Worked well when she was a teenage and still worked surprising well now that she had matured a little more. Reaching up, he removed his glasses as he asked, “Something wrong?”

            Buffy stomped her foot and glared at him as she tried to regain her train of thought. Mentally congratulating himself, he tried to focus on his adoptive daughter rather than the woman who walked out of the room only a moments before. Things would likely never be simply, but then again, he found life to be anything but.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing except the plot.
> 
> If you have a pairing you'd like read, please let me know. Anyone from anything by Whedon is fair game, so let me know.
> 
> Good night and good luck.


End file.
